


The Chasm is Widening

by DaphynesPerson



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Remembers, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sam is trying, Steve Feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-05-21 15:37:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6056938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaphynesPerson/pseuds/DaphynesPerson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam thinks Bucky needs to be away from Steve in order to get better. Natasha agrees. So Steve goes.  Farther than anyone could ever imagine.<br/>Nobody ever asks Bucky what he wants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cracks Form

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first try at this, so apologies in advance. I know where I want this to go. We'll see if I can get us there.

“Steve, we think it would be better for Bucky if he was in a place where he didn’t have to constantly see you.” Sam greets Steve with, as soon as he had sat down at the cafeteria in the Avenger headquarters. His dark brown eyes looking directly into Steve’s, he follows up that blunt statement with, “The guilt is affecting his recovery.” 

Steve felt like someone had set Thor’s hammer on his chest, but he managed to speak normally. “I thought that his memories were coming back, that he knew that Hydra was responsible for…” he managed to say before trailing off with a hand gesture to try to convey everything that Hydra was responsible for. 

“He does, but that’s not the guilt that I’m talking about,” Sam replied. “He feels guilty that he doesn’t feel anything. The memories he has tells him that he should be close to you, that he should care, but the way he phrases it, ‘It’s like watching a movie; like watching someone else’s life.’ With you being around, so obviously caring, the guilt of not feeling anything in return is keeping him focused on the past and not his future.” 

That was more like a blow to the chest, but Steve stayed level. He’d had years of practice of keeping his feelings, his pains, his wants off of his face. Sam may be a friend, a damn good one, but he doesn’t know how to see past the Captain America mask and to Steve Rogers. Only Bucky… well, let’s just say no one was around anymore to call Steve out on his feelings. “I don’t mean to. I can make sure that I don’t,” Steve started to respond, desperately thinking on how he could act okay knowing Bucky had told Sam he didn’t care. 

“No, Steve. I’m sorry to just spring this on you” Sam interrupted, “but you need to hear this and I figured just starting with it was better than dragging it out. Frankly just being able to see you is enough to make Bucky feel like he should try harder. He needs to work on himself and his future and not be worried about you.” 

And dammed if that wasn’t the summary of James Buchanan Barnes whole fucked up life; always more worried about Steve than focusing on his own life. That is what got them to this place. If Steve hadn’t been so selfish, so focused on the ‘right’ thing, then Bucky would have had the life he deserved. This was Steve’s punishment for everything he’d caused in Bucky’s life – to be banished from the one thing that made him happy, the only thing he had left of his life. Bucky was the best thing in his life, always had been, and Steve, he was always the worst in Bucky’s. Luckily, this train of thought had been going around and around the track in Steve’s mind for about, oh 76 years, since the actual train, so it only took him a second to find his Captain’s tone. 

“Then I’ll go. Maybe bother Stark for a bit and there are some strings left over from the Hydra data dump that I’ve been meaning to check on. Whatever is best for Bucky,” Steve managed to sound sure and easy while he could feel his heart shattering. 

“You don’t have to leave. Natasha and I were thinking that maybe we could find a cabin or something,” Sam said, sounding slightly surprised that Steve hadn’t fought this. Steve not fighting anything was a shock to anyone who knew him. “This is Avengers headquarters, Captain America can’t leave.” 

“Sure I can, it’s not like I can’t just as easily leave for missions with Tony. Besides it will do everyone some good to settle into a routine without me. Figure out their places on the team. And Bucky, this is a place he feels safe and also where he’ll be safest from any lingering Hydra threats. And how were you going to do his therapy if he’s off in some woods somewhere huh?” Steve managed to even sound a bit joking at the end there. God, he should have stayed on the USO stage, he’d have wound up in Hollywood eventually. “I’ll head out to Stark’s this afternoon. I’ve got to get packed up. I’ll touch base before I go.” 

Steve stood and walked away from the cafeteria table, where he thought he was just going to have the weekly update from Sam on Bucky’s progress, like they’ve been having for the past 5 months since they’d managed to bring him to the Avengers complex; he hadn’t been prepared for being told he was destroying the only thing that he’d had left. Once out of Sam’s sight, he broke into a light jog to his quarters. He wanted to make sure he was moving fast enough that no one would stop him to ask for his input on an op or tips for training. He knew his mask was good, but he wasn’t sure how long he could keep it up. Best be long gone, before the cracks started to show. 

As much as he wanted to lose the mask in his quarters, he knew that Bucky’s were not far enough away to muffle the shit storm that would happen. And knowing Nat, she’d be by to check in on him after his and Sam’s discussion. The fact that the two closest friends he’d had in this century would be here to look after Bucky was one of the only reasons that he’d managed to offer to go to Tony’s and not suggest that he stalk Bucky from a distance, maybe use the air ducts like Clint does. God, and the fact that sounded like heaven to Steve, to stay and see, even without him knowing that Bucky was okay, probably lent even more credence to Sam’s statement that he wasn’t good for Bucky. You know beyond the whole, keeping him in a war, letting him fall, abandoning him to Hydra’s clutches reasons that Steve Rogers was the source of all the worse things in Bucky’s life. 

Steve cut off that thought and focused on packing. Between having spent most of his time fighting since he woke up and being gone for 70 years, personal possessions were pretty scarce in his space. He had his record player, but that seemed to be the one thing that Bucky actually like when Steve asked him to hang out in the evenings. Bucky would put on some jazz or swing and they’d quietly sit, Steve sketch, Bucky reading whatever trashy romance novel Natasha had given him that week. And oh god, Steve could just imagine how hellacious that was for Bucky, having to sit here with him, Steve occasionally telling stories about the Howling Commandos, pretending to care. It was always the highlight of Steve’s day when he managed to have an evening with Bucky. Between training, missions and Bucky’s various physical and psychological therapies, it only happened 4 or 5 times a month, but it had felt like the only time Steve could breathe, could drop the Captain’s mask and not feel like everyone was judging him. He felt happy with Bucky; the first time in years that he could say that. But knowing now that Bucky wasn’t feeling the same, didn’t feel any of the peace that Steve felt; but had instead been beating himself up over what he wasn’t feeling. Suffice to say the record player was staying. Stark would be thrilled when he told him that he needed an iPod. Clothes were shoved into the small pack; just jeans and plain shirts; then his sketch book and pencils, Bucky’s file and a photo of him from before the fall off the desk. Stark would see he got everything else he needed. He looked at his Captain’s uniform, but he had a spare at Stark tower. He shoved it into the back of the closet, in case Bucky came in here for any reason, he didn’t want him to be reminded of Steve. Throwing his shield on his back and the pack over his shoulder he wasn’t surprised that packing had only taken him about 30 minutes, with 20 of it being him staring at the record player with a sneer on his face at the sap who had thought that is had some meaning. 

Nat’s had was raised to knock on the door with Steve pulled it open. She, blunt as usual, asked “Sam said you didn’t even protest and offered to leave yourself?” Steve could somewhat understand her confusion because Steve never just went along to get along and had in the past week spent a lot of time giving pep talks about how being around each other and knowing each other personally would help the Avengers grow as a team. For him to being leaving, that would seem the exact opposite of what he’d been saying to Wanda just this morning. 

“The team needs to learn what they are without Captain America looking over their shoulder. It’ll better allow them to see each other’s strengths and vulnerabilities. I can’t be there on every mission, so this will be good practice.” 

Which is actually true, but while everyone is sure that Captain Rogers can’t lie worth a damn, little do they know that Steve Rogers can take a half truth or even a quarter and stretch it, twist it and make it sound like the truth, whole truth and nothing but. 

Natasha seems to buy it, which means that everyone else will too. “So off to Stark’s tower huh?” 

“Yep, this should catch him totally off guard, which is an added perk. If I leave now I should make it in time for dinner with him and Pepper.” 

“Okay, I’m still a bit surprised. This wasn’t what Sam and I had discussed, but if you think it is the right plan.” Natasha leaned in for a hug. 

Bending down to her height, Steve hugged her back, closing his eyes to save this moment, and said, “Of course. I’m the man with the plan right?” 

“Right. Check in with Sam before you go.” She said, hands around his neck. 

“Course,” he gave her a light squeeze and released her. Looking her right in the eyes he said, “It’s for the best. You guys stay safe okay.” 

“We’ll try our best. Sides it’s not like you would be back in a minute if we needed you.” 

“Bye,” Steve called over his shoulder as he jogged down the hall, reflecting that if they needed him at all he wouldn’t be leaving. But they didn’t, so it was time to get gone. 

Poor Sam was obviously feeling bad; saying when Steve jogged up. “I didn’t mean that this had to happen immediately. I feel like I’m kicking you out of your house or something man.” 

Steve managed a grin, and despite wanting to tell Sam that he was kicking him out of what little life Steve had left, just said, “You know me; once there is a path, I don’t waste time. Clearly this is what is best for Bucky, so no point in not making it happen right away. Really, it is the easiest solution.” Once Steve is gone, poof problem has literally disappeared. 

“Well, if you are sure. Nat and I talked about this a lot and it should really help Bucky move on,” Sam said, sounding just like the therapist he is. Steve managed not to flinch at the phrase “move on” and just put his hand on Sam’s shoulder and said, “That’s the important thing. I’m going to hit the road, try and beat traffic. I’m going to tell you what I told Nat. Stay Safe. Tell everyone else bye for me.” 

“Course man. I’m sure it won’t be too long ‘til you can come back. Once Bucky is able to see that he doesn’t have to feel anything; then…” Sam was saying, perhaps thinking that was reassuring when Steve cut him off. 

“It is what it is; I really do have to go if I’m not going to have to spend hours in traffic. See ya.” 

With that Steve jogged towards the garage, the phrases ‘not feeling anything’ and ‘move on’ an endless loop in his head. His best friend, his partner and the love of his fucking life doesn’t feel anything about him. Jesus his life was completely screwed. He reached his dark blue motorcycle quickly, putting the small pack in the saddle bags on his bike. He had just reached for his helmet when a voice spoke out of one of the shadows, a deep rasp that he would know anywhere, “Where you headed off to in such a hurry?” 

“Just heading to the city to take care of some things,” he carefully kept his back to Bucky until he sure he had fixed the cracks that started at Sam’s statement and were probably frickin’ canyons from sound of Bucky’s voice. Steve managed to keep his voice steady and to not draw the shaking breath he so badly wanted to. Christ, he felt like he was in the midst of one of his old asthma attacks with how tight his chest was. He took his time unstrapping the helmet from the handle bars and turned to look at Bucky, who stayed mostly blended into the shadows, dressed all in black. Steve could just see his hair hanging loose around his pale face which was still a little hollow from not enough sleep and food that wouldn’t stay down; gray eyes shadowed by dark bags. That he had a part in keeping that hollow, empty look in Bucky’s face was almost enough to make Steve’s mask crack. But to crack would only hurt Bucky more; what would Bucky do with a crying, sobbing Captain America lunging at him and wrapping his arms around those shoulders, repeating how fucking sorry he was for everything. Steve’s glad he had managed to rein in that impulse ever time he’s had it, which was ever time he saw Bucky. How much guilt would that have heaped on the man’s already burdened shoulders? It’s better for Steve to swallow his guilt and tears and get the hell out of Dodge before he breaks Bucky any more than he already has. 

“Just a day trip? Looks like you are staying longer,” Bucky asks in the same low tone. Steve is clenching his helmet hard in his hands to keep from reaching out to Bucky; but luckily like his mask he has a lot of practice at not touching Bucky.

“Who knows? Stark’s been after me for a while to come and help him with some things and it is pretty central so I might just wind up staying there most of the time. Heading out for missions from there is about the same as here. Teams pretty squared away; I’m not needed here.” Steve responds, making sure to keep the bitterness out of his voice at that last statement. He thinks he saw a flicker of something on Bucky’s face, but not sure what; likely relief to be away from his presence and free to look forward without Steve dragging him down into their dark and depressing past. 

“Oh,” and if there isn’t a wealth of emotions in that single word, Steve wished he could interpret even a little bit of it. His stupid heart wanted to swear that there was disappointment, but that couldn’t be it. Maybe just confusion, that is more likely. 

“Yeah, Sam and Natasha will be here so things will stay the same. You will just have to miss out on listening to my old fogey music, but I’m sure they’ll be able to find you something from at least the last half of century that’s in better taste,” and there was the bitterness seeping in. But hopefully Bucky will not notice or at least attribute it Steve’s dislike of being constantly teased by his teammates for his poor musical taste. “But I’m glad I got to see you. Say good bye.” This Steve managed in a much more level tone. 

“Before you go, can I ask a quick question? Truth or Fiction?” 

“Of course, Buck. You can always ask me anything.” He had become Bucky’s sounding board for what certain memories meant; and that is probably all sorts of wrong since Steve isn’t a robot and cannot not talk about the past without some serious, even though he tries to muffle them, emotions coming through. He'll do his best, but god with Bucky it seems no matter what his choice is it is wrong. Tell him about his life - wrong you are forcing to pretend to care. Don't tell him about his own life - wrong, it is his life history, you don't own it or him. 

“Did we ever get into a fight on the docks with three sailors?” 

Oh great, that story. Talk about something that is a perfect example of why Bucky Barnes should have run far, far away from him a long, long time ago. “I got into a fight with them. You just tried to help me out. They were kicking around some alley dog, you could hear the thing whimpering for blocks. Of course I went in there intent on telling them off; even though you told me that they’d kick my ass. Self-righteous Steve of course didn’t care. ‘That’s a living creature, Bucky, people can’t treat living things like that’”, Steve stated complete with finger quotes. “You of course came after me and managed to get both of us out of there alive. It earned you some cracked ribs, swollen hand and a bloody lip, but you got me out just the same.” 

“Huh. What happened to the dog then?”came the matter of fact response. 

“It ran somewhere between the first swing and when I went down to be kicked myself,” replied Steve. He chose not to mention that he had gone back down as soon as he’d been able to reasonably leave his bed with some sandwich meat to give to the dog and it had licked his hand when he had fed it. Poor thing had been skinny as a rail and Steve had thought seriously about bringing it back to the apartment, but getting thrown out on the street because of the dog wouldn’t have help anyone. Even Steve knew that. Shaking himself out of his memory, he meets Bucky’s eyes and he can see now what he had thought of as interest and if not friendship at least appreciation was nothing more than guilt and pity for how fucking lonely and pathetic Steve was. For god sake for someone who had gone through as much as Bucky had with the Depression, War and the fights Steve was always starting, wanting him, no damn near demanding that he remember that life and forcing him to constantly think on it. Steve must be the most selfish man in the whole goddamn world. Even now he’s just staring at Bucky, trying to memorize his face one more time, when really it is the only thing he sees when he closes his eyes. Bucky smiling, Bucky falling, Bucky in the chair, Bucky on that table, Bucky grinning as he threw that punch at the sailor. Bucky. Bucky? Bucky! Steve managed to shake himself out of his spiraling thoughts and said, “I guess this is it, Bucky. I’m sure you’ve got things you’ve got to be getting back to,” and god, Steve had to quit talking before he lost it. “If you have any questions while I’m gone, call me. I’ll always answer any of your questions. Just stay safe, Buck. Please, just… keep yourself safe. That’s all I ask,” Steve told himself that the quaver in his voice was barely noticeable. Steve is as bad at lying to himself as people think he is in general. 

The silence seems never ending and then, “I will. Good bye, Steve,” and with that statement Bucky fades back into the shadows. Steve listens for him walking away, but doesn’t hear anything. Of course that means nothing. “Good bye Buck.” He whispers into the shadows. 

He takes one shaky breath and then two while he rubs his hands over his face. Then, squaring his shoulder puts his helmet on and swings onto the bike. He’d like to go without it, but the last thing he needs is some kid seeing him without his on and then telling his parents that “even Goody Two Shoes Captain America” doesn’t wear one. He kicks starts the bike and roars out of the garage, thinking joylessly that it is just him and his thoughts for the next 4 hours into the city. Just what he needs before trying to get Tony to let him stay without revealing exactly why and what he’s planning. What a fun ride this will be.


	2. Clinging to the Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's point of view.

James Buchanan Barnes’ mental alarm went off. It was time for him to go for his morning run. While there were some mornings James/Bucky/Barnes, whatever you wanted to call him, would rather skip, he had realized fairly early in his stay with the Avengers that if he didn’t keep to a regular and consistent schedule, people got nervous. Not immediately, but they would get a little on edge and casually “swing by” his quarters to check on him. And he didn’t like making them nervous, but he really didn’t want them to check up on him in the mornings, so he quietly slide back towards his apartment to get ready for his 5:30 AM run, leaving Steve Rogers just starting to stir under the air duct he’d been curled by all night.

Bucky, which is what he usually called himself since that is what the Captain called him, had kept his schedule perfectly. Morning run first, where he was able to watch Steve start his run just as he was finishing his. Then breakfast in a cafeteria, alone, but with casual nods to Scott and Wanda; followed by the every morning meeting with the psychologist, which went as well as it ever goes. 

“So what do these memories make you feel, Sgt. Barnes?” she would ask in that ever patient tone. He wondered why they are still going through this whole song and dance. He has his memories, both good and bad. From both before the fall and after and for FUCK sake, there is obviously only one thing he deserves to feel right now. Guilt. Guilt about not being good enough on the train to protect Steve without falling; guilt about not being there to keep Steve from putting that plane into the ice.; guilt about all the many, many people he hurt during his time under Hydra control; if he wants to be truthful guilt over all the evil people he had a chance to hurt or kill during his time under Hydra control but didn’t. Seriously, Pol Pot was an evil bastard. He should have broke his neck instead of breaking the neck of the rebel who snuck in to kill the dictator. Guilt over nearly killing Natasha many times; guilt over Sam’s wings and guilt upon guilt upon guilt about Steve - forcing Steve to look for him for so long, letting Steve find him; the fights Steve got into over him, the goddamn WAR Steve fought for him. 

But to the doctor he simply says “Guilty.”

She can’t let it drop, “What do you feel guilty for?”

“St… Captain Rogers. He has done so much for me; sacrificed. And I can’t give him...” up, he silently finishes to himself, knowing if he hints at so much need for Steve the doctor will find out, and then Steve will find out, and then Steve will give up even more just for Bucky when he really needs to start thinking about himself.

“You need to understand Sgt. Barnes, that your treatment and your recovery is for yourself. It is because you deserve it. Not because you need to do something for someone else.”

“I know that, but he was... But that time is gone. Poof. And I can’t… I don’t know how to live in this world with…” Bucky trails off. Better not to finish that sentence. Plus his mental clock tells him.

“Well, we will start up there again tomorrow Sgt. Barnes, but that is our time for today.” She says, clicking her pen and putting it back in the container on her desk.

Bucky nods and silently finishes his sentence, “without him. He’s my world.”

With therapy finished, that means it is lunch time. With luck he’ll see Rogers there. Bucky hadn’t heard anything about any missions that the Captain was needed on. Lately it seemed like Steve had been sticking close to base more than normal and sending others out. Bucky wasn’t sure if the reason was truly what Steve had told him, that they had only had “milk runs” lately, nothing deemed Captain America’s time, or if he was keeping close to keep an eye on Bucky. Either way Bucky both enjoyed it and, that’s right, felt guilty about it.

He did manage to have lunch with Steve and Natasha and Sam and Clint and Wanda and Scott and Vision and a couple of scientist/tech kids that seemed to have formed a bond with Wanda. It was better that way. Bucky tried to not be alone with Steve too much in public, when he was Steve’s sole focus he had trouble keeping a dopey little grin, okay it would have been a grimace on any one but the Winter Soldier, off of his face. In a group a stoic mask was much easier. As he slide out his chair across the table and just one seat down from Steve, making it seem like he didn’t want to be too close since the seat directly across was free as was a seat next to Steve; he turned his chair slightly towards Barton on Steve’s right, managing to make like he was listening to Barton’s story like everyone else at the table, when he really was just spending his time staring at Steve’s profile. It helped a bit to ease the anxiety that he always felt in a group, always feeling like an impostor and interloper. Lunch passed quickly, but the laughter around the table lightened Bucky’s mood. Maybe he hadn’t done too much damage to Steve in this life if even the people who had fought each other not one year earlier could get together and laugh like this.

After lunch, he, Wanda and Barton went off to target practice with Wanda moving the targets randomly and he and Barton competing to see who could hit the most from an array of strange positions. Right now Barton was up 19352 to 18235; but Bucky still says that introducing the trapeze was giving Barton an unfair advantage. Bucky, no Sgt. Barnes, would give him a run for his money today given that it was from motorcycles and after all his experience riding behind Steve in the war, Bucky was pretty certain he had this one in the bag. Steve headed off from the group to some sort of requisition conference call with Stark and Maria Hill, but Bucky knew he would be able to find him afterwards in his room drawing, so he didn’t bother to look back.

After target practice where Bucky was now in the lead 20,735 to Barton’s paltry 20,523, he headed back to his room and boosted himself silently into the air ducts. Moving quickly he settled down in his favorite spot and breathed deep. He knew he probably had about 15 minutes until Steve was back after his discussion with Sam about Bucky’s recovery; but even the thought of Steve being here and listening to his steady breathing and the scratch of his pencil as he sketched was enough to make the tension that this always carried in his body when he was in public or Steve was out of his sight ease. He had actually had a relatively good sleep the night before, with minimum nightmares for both him and Steve, so he just relaxed against the side of the duct to wait.

To his surprise the wait wasn’t very long. It was only a few minutes after he had settled in that Steve came into the room. Stalked in was probably a better descriptor. He walked in, turning to carefully and lightly close the door. Steve leaned his head against the door for a long count and Bucky could begin to feel his muscles tense up. He didn’t know what had changed since lunch when Steve was laughing and smiling; ever once in a while glancing at Bucky as if to make sure that he too got the joke and wasn’t feeling left out. Steve pivoted seemingly with a purpose again, but half way it was if he was physically jolted. Bucky couldn’t see what he was looking at, but knowing Steve’s room the only thing over there was record player that occasionally he would play when he invited Bucky over to his room to “chill”. Bucky didn’t know what possible reason the record player could give to put that look on Steve’s face, but he was about ready to smash it himself after watching Steve stare for ten minutes, looking both angry and aching sad as well as overwhelmingly… bitter? But Captain America didn’t do bitter. He was righteous or disappointed or sorrowful or nostalgic or happy, but bitter? That wasn’t an expression that Bucky knew that Steve could make from any memory or time period of him. Another five minutes passed and Bucky could feel his hand start to cramp up from being so tightly clenched. Looking at Steve’s hands, shaking slightly, Bucky was fairly certain that it was taking all of Steve’s considerable will to not just grab the offending record player and throw it through a wall or window or maybe across the compound. Then, as abruptly as he stopped moving, he began moving again. He grabbed clothes out of the closet and drawers, simple plain items. He paused once more to look at his uniform, but this didn’t seem to get the anger that the record player did, but rather just a very weary and sad sigh. Then, the Captain American uniform, in all its star spangled glory was inglorious shoved to the back of the closet and if Bucky could tell by the edge of Rogers that he could see, it got kicked as well. The folder Bucky knew was about him went into the bag, along with the photo of the “real” Bucky as he deemed him. Steve also grabbed his latest sketchbook and pencil and then looking around the room with a sigh, turned on his heel once more. 

Bucky was about to drop down out of his hiding spot to ask Rogers just what the hell was happening, because this was not normal or typical and frankly he was starting to worry when he heard the Black Widow’s footsteps coming down the hall. Clearly Rogers hadn’t heard her yet, but Bucky knew he had to get out of range in case Rogers invited her in. While Rogers might have ignored any noises he heard from the vent and, god knows his preservation instincts were almost nonexistent, the Widow was the total opposite. Bucky quickly and quietly dropped down into his quarters and made his way to the garage. With the saddlebags packed, Rogers must be planning on taking his bike so Bucky planned to waylay him there to figure out just what the hell was going on.

He is waiting in the shadows when Rogers arrives. Rogers face seems pretty clear, almost blank in fact. He watched the tension in Steve’s shoulders and listened to his breathing, not the slow and deep breathes he normally takes that sooth Bucky, but these seem short and shaky. He has to ask, to know where Steve will be, “Where you headed off to in such a hurry?”

“Who knows? Stark’s been after me for a while to come and help him…”

Steve’s responses all seem reasonable; goodness knows anyone who has been on a conference call between him and Stark knew that Tony constantly was making up excuses and reasons for the Captain to head to New York. Everyone also knew that he was only doing it to try and continue to mend his and Steve’s relationship. It wouldn’t be unexpected for Steve to go to New York, but in such a hurry and with no set plans to return; Bucky was still sure that there was something going on. Still his stomach clenches and his jaw tightens at the idea of Steve not being just down the hall, sleeping just below where he can listen to his deep and even breaths and that strong and steady heart beat. The phrase about not being needed makes Bucky nearly break every wall and mask that he has built. Steve Rogers not needed? That is one of pillars of Bucky’s existence, when he remembers who he is, he always with every fiber in his being (in what his therapist would say is a deeply unhealthy manner) needs Steve, which is why he never tells her. And he hates to admit to himself or anyone else even how he felt when he realized someone knew HIM, while he was still under Hydra control, how visceral the need was to go and find the man. But the control, the goddamn control held sway like it had every other time in his life only blinking for the few times a blond haired, blue eyed man had crossed his path and he had paused. Even under the deepest conditioning, blue eyes always made him pause. But he needs to get out of his own head and figure out what is going on in Steve’s head. His mask wasn’t giving much away though; the clearest was the bitterness about the stupid record player. Bucky really couldn’t determine how that had caused such anger, Steve had always seemed so relaxed and happy to pick through the vinyl on the nights that they listened to music and Steve told stories that made Bucky both want to laugh out loud and weep over his lost Howlies. 

Then Steve utters the phrase “Say good bye,” and all Bucky’s mind can think is make him stay, keep him here longer, so he asks a question about the past, whatever popped into his head first, which was remembering that poor kicked puppy from the docks. He wondered if he should tell Steve that he remembered how Steve, tiny, angry Steve, had taken down one of the dock workers with a vicious kick to the groin and how he remembered swinging the random stick of wood at the others back before he went down. He didn’t suppose Steve wanted reminded of how they had to fight dirty to win. That wasn’t Captain America’s style, but man was Steve Rogers a fucking fireball. He missed that sometimes that fury and strength of purpose. He loved fighting by Steve’s side. The Avengers War had messed with Steve about fighting, he was never one to know how to stand down even against his friends, but neither was he one to forget how much he cared even when he was swinging. And there you are, just one more thing for Bucky Barnes to have forced Steve Rogers to do, hit a friend, both on the Helicarrier and after.

Steve trailed off of his story about the dog and seemed to just look at Bucky and for a moment, Bucky could see the old Steve Rogers. The same Steve Rogers he saw after his mother’s funeral looking at Bucky like he had nothing left in the world and no matter what he would continue on - that deep well of sadness and strength that would have buried and drowned anyone in the world but Steve. Steve took a shaky breathe, sounding like that sickly kid from Brooklyn for the first time since he had walked into the lab in the Hydra based and shakily said “Bucky.” Of everything in Steve’s life that he had just soldiered on through, Bucky couldn’t figure out what had happened in the past two hours to allow all that sorrow to bubble up to the surface once again.

The silence is broken by Steve, “I guess this is it, Bucky. I’m sure you’ve got things you’ve got to be getting back to,” and god knows what exciting life Steve thought Bucky led, but he stays silent. The only purpose Bucky has in this life is atonement, which while continuous and ongoing, is hardly pressing.

“If you have any questions while I’m gone, call me. I’ll always answer any of your questions.” Bucky knows he’ll be calling, just to hear Steve’s voice. Hear how important Bucky was… no is to him. Even if he isn’t ready to believe it, just knowing somehow Steve still cares is enough to keep him going even after the worst nightmares and memories of his deeds as Winter Soldier. Even though part of him hopes that Steve will stop caring quite so much so that Steve can find his own happiness again.

“Just stay safe, Buck. Please, just… keep yourself safe. That’s all I ask,” Bucky doesn’t know how to respond to Steve, his safety has never been and will never be as important as Steve’s; but judging by the tremor he heard in Steve’s voice this is not the time to argue that. What else can he say but, “I will. Good bye, Steve,” and steps back into the shadows. 

He stays back and hidden and listens to Steve murmur, “Good bye Buck.” It sounds strangely permanent to Bucky and that scares Bucky more than he can even admit to himself. He flings himself around stairs up the roof, taking the ever present scope out of his jacket pocket and watches as the Captain roars down the drive of headquarters. Right at the gate, he slows and looks back at the headquarters, giving a salute back, almost as if he could feel Bucky watching. But then, he drives away and Bucky feels like he is falling all over again, deep into the emptiness. He’s left watching his world drive away, smaller and smaller and letting the cold emptiness settle around him once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you liked this. Bucky's POV and the Civil War trailers have been giving me fits, but I think I'm going to have to just go ahead with my vision and label it as noncompliant. Thanks to everyone for the kudos and comments. I've never done this before so the encouragement is keeping me going.
> 
> Also, if you find errors, I apologize. This is unbetaed.
> 
> Best!  
> DP


	3. Ignoring the Fault Lines  - The Civil War non compliant one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this takes place after Civil War, but of course I can't make it Civil War compliant since I don't know where they are going with it. So I made up my own Civil War story line. I just need it to be complete in order to get this story where I am headed. I'm not going to try to adjust it when the movie comes out, so this is very much just a product of my own head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possible spoilers for those who haven't seen Civil War Trailers.

As Steve weaved his way around car on the Turnpike, at a very reasonable 5 mph over the speed limit because Steve was well aware that going the speed he truly wished would cause unneeded commotion in traffic not the least because people would assume some catastrophe if Captain America was racing down the road, he was glad that he didn’t have any sort of shield on his helmet. The wind cleared his face of the tears that had been leaking out consistently since he left the facility. The sign ahead said Manhattan 42 miles. He hadn’t managed to do much thinking on what to tell Tony on his trip so far. Mostly he just heard the words “not feeling anything” over and over on repeat in his head. But a numb sense of purpose had come over him, finally. He knew what he had to do.

Tony, surprisingly, would probably be the toughest one to convince about him being “okay” about leaving Bucky. Tony had been the one that had knew at least a little about the true lengths he was willing to go for Bucky’s safety. Steve hoped no one ever put together the full extent of his plan that day, and for how long he had been planning it.

***11 months earlier***

Steve looked at his bruised and beaten team and knew it was time. He had hoped that it wouldn’t have to reach this point, but there was no more delaying the inevitable. Wanda’s nose still had not quite bleeding after her face off against Vision. Sam’s leg had been broken in two places by Tony shooting him out of the sky and Barnes had slashes all over his body from T’Challa. He sighed and moved away to place the call.

“Tasha, I need to talk to Stark,” he stated as soon as she picked up the phone. “Privately. This is no trick or trap and I hope that he won’t turn it into one either.”

“I’ll make it happen,” she stated, her voice wearier than he had ever heard it.

Two hours later he is meeting with Tony in a cargo terminal of the airport.

“So, Traitor Cap, what is this hush hush meeting for? Gonna tell me more about how you can do this all day?” Tony’s snark was not nearly at the level that it usually was and Steve could tell he was as downtrodden as Steve himself.

“No, Tony. I’m here to tell you I can’t do this anymore.” Steve comes back in a soft voice. He can tell that Tony is taken aback by this. “Call Ross. Tell him he’ll get his Super-Soldier and...”

“What?!? You’re going to turn over your ‘friend’, Bucky? You’re finally going to admit that he…” Tony begins to rant.

“NO! Never. He is a decorated soldier of the 107th, a POW and I will never ever turn him over to people like Ross to turn into a play thing like HYDRA did.” Steve shouts back, chest puffing up and shoulders squaring.

“Then…”

“Me, Tony. He gets me. He can have me formally charged and thrown in that prison you so lovingly constructed. In exchange the war stops; everyone else gets full pardons and an option to leave for a country that is not part of the Accords,” Steve continues as if there is no doubt that it would be a deal Ross would take.

“Somehow, I doubt…” Tony begins.

“He’ll take the deal Tony. It is the same as the first one he offered me; just with me instead. Remind him he is getting the original version. Much easier to break down than the knock-offs.” Steve finishes with a bitter ting to his voice that startles Tony. Steve had sounded weary and worried. Angry and so goddamn righteous in the time Tony had known him, but bitter? Well, maybe Captain Perfect did have a bit of a dark side.

“What do you mean, he first offered?” Tony questioned, having never heard of any deal outside of sign the Accords. Of course since he had been for them since the beginning, maybe before with his prison designs he had sketched up, he probably wasn’t a main part of the negotiations and meetings he knew Steve had gone through trying to… well, trying to stop exactly what was happening. Tony looked out at the destruction that they had wroth that day, while Steve sank to the ground in a crosswise position and placed his wrists together, much like the spider’s web had held them earlier.

“Jesus Tony. And you say I’m naïve,” Steve muttered. “This was never about ‘security’ or ‘limits’.” Tony could hear the air quotes. “This was about Ross finally getting a place to store, train and test his own personal band of superhumans to play God with. I can’t let him do that to them. I can’t put anyone else in the position I got Bucky into. Being puppets with barbed wire strings. If it is the last thing I do on this bloody earth, I will protect them and as many others as I can.”

“If you can, get him to allow the emigration of anyone who feels like they cannot live under the Accords. I’ve had some discussions with Iceland, they seemed willing. So did Palestine, but I don’t think making a country of “supers” would add anymore stability to the region. Put the word out and make Ross put a timeline on it. I’m sure Bucky will use some of the funds he liberated from HYDRA accounts to pay for the travel costs… but… anyway, not your problem. Just try and get that please and put Sam and Natasha in charge. They’re the best at covering the contingencies; Sam’s pretty well up to date on my discussions with possible locations.”

“Who are all these anyone’s you are talking about?” Tony asks puzzled about this population that Steve is trying to add on to a deal that Tony is not even sure will fly.

“People, Tony. People who may be special, but that don’t want anyone to know like Pepper. Or people who don’t have a Captain America or Hawkeye to show up and protect them when the guys come in the dark looking for someone with their gift or power or whatever you want to call it. The people that are going to lose this War if we don’t make some plans for them,” Steve sighed, like he was tired of Tony and tired of having this same discussion, “Did you even read the Accords? It’s not just for us. It covers everyone different, whether they want to be or not. I chose to pick up this shield, Tony. But they didn’t and I’m not having their name put on some list somewhere if I can do anything about it,” his voice trailed off to a dark chuckle. “Of course it seems I can’t do much right can I? But I can do this. I can bargain and get as many safe as possible. I can get Bucky and Sam and Barton’s family and Wanda and Scott and Cassie out. Hopefully some others too. Make the call Tony; tell them that Captain America surrenders.”

Tony had never felt so cold in all his life, not in that wretched cave, not as he was falling back from the hole in the universe. Steve Rogers looked resigned, sitting vulnerable and still in an empty terminal, telling Tony, his former friend, that he was willing to make the sacrifice play. To leap on the grenade that Tony had pulled the pin on in order to save “as many as he could.” 

“Shit, shit, shit….” Tony began ranting. “Why didn’t you bring this up before?”

“I tried. It was all about the Winter Soldier for you and someone kept the focus on him to keep the focus off the rest. I knew he would be though as soon as Ross told me that I could resign and take anyone I wanted with me when I left if I handed over Bucky. No way he’d keep that backroom promise to me, even if I would have considered it. Now I wonder if maybe I should have started here, but I just kept hoping…” Steve voice went silent, as if he couldn’t finish the statement meaning he’d lost hope. “These are the terms, Tony. Make the call. I can get my people to stand down if it is all completed by the time they know what is happening. If they come in in the middle of a negotiation we’ll have a coup.” Steve seemed the force the grin at his own words.

“Why now, Cap?” Tony asked quietly.

“Because I’m a strategist Tony and this is the best way to save the most possible with the least harm. Cut your losses,” came the straightforward answer.

“And why not do the same calculation with the Winter Solider as the one…”

“The one what Tony? The one they test and experiment on like they did at Azzano? The one that they kept frozen except to wipe him and turn him into ‘The Asset’? The one who gets sent back into a hole under the ocean for God knows who to do whatever they want to him without any true oversight? Jesus, Tony. I wouldn’t do that to my worst enemy much less my.... I’m never, ever going to let Bucky wind up in a place like that again. I couldn’t survive that; knowing he was suffering while I was free in the world. That is not an option. Now call Ross. If he baulks about me versus Bucky just tell him I’m sure he has Doctor Messer’s file by now. The potential is even higher with me.”

Tony stays quiet, just staring at the man in front of him.

“Do it Tony,” Steve bites out, “We are running out of time.”

“You’d really…” he queries.

“I thought it was clearly established when I jump solo behind enemy lines to take out a whole base that there is nothing I wouldn’t sacrifice for Bucky. Sure, I couldn’t let innocent people die, but me? My existence, my freedom, my last breath will be to keep him safe in anyway I can. I’ve already failed too many times at that. I can’t keep letting this War go on when I can stop it by myself. Make the goddamn call.”

“No.”

“Dam…”

“We’ll stand together. Like we should have from the onset. No one is taking my friend and putting them in a box.” Tony stated firmly.

“Tony, no. It’s too late. This has gotten too big. The public needs someone to blame. And it can’t be some random HYDRA ghost this time. The higher ups have put a lot of effort,” Steve argued.

“A lot of effort into getting us to go after one and other. Maybe it’s time we find out who they don’t want us going after,” Tony began.

“Rumlow, of course,” Steve stated matter-of-factly. “Though I believe they call him Crossbones now.”

“What, how, why…” Tony sputtered.

“Ran into him a few times trying to get Bucky to come in. Took me a while to figure out who he was, but you know HYDRA, why die when you can come back and destroy Steve Rogers?” again in that matter-of-fact the sky is blue and HYDRA is always going to fuck with Steve’s world tone.

“Then we give the world their villain. And you get to keep your freedom and your friend.” Tony says, starting to walk to the entrance.

“But Tony….”

“It’s called a truce, Steve. Now let’s go finish the Accords. Not everything has to end with the sacrifice play, sometimes it can end just by two people actually talking,” came Tony’s dry reply, as if Steve hadn’t spent months trying to talk to him and make him see.

******************************************************************

Steve shook himself out of the memories and looked at the sign ahead. Manhattan – 5 miles.

So Tony, Tony knows how important Bucky is, but he also doesn’t know Steve Rogers. He knows Captain America. Bucky had been all Steve had left and without him… well. But step one, make sure Bucky stays safe without Steve around to watch his back. Although, truthfully, his risk of getting hurt went down drastically by the simple fact that he’ll no longer be near Steve.

See, Sam’s right. Better off without you.

As he entered Manhattan Steve carefully wove through traffic and dropped his speed to account for the increased traffic and pedestrians. He rolled into the parking garage of Stark Tower around 7:30 PM. It still jarred him slightly to hear FRIDAY’s voice greet him.

“Welcome, Captain. The Boss did not inform me that you were coming,” came the voice of the AI as he turned off the bike.

“Hello FRIDAY. He didn’t know. I’d rather you not tell him if the surprise wouldn’t be bothersome to Ms. Potts,” Steve responds.

“Not at all, Captain. Boss and Ms. Potts are currently in the Penthouse for pre-dinner drinks,” FRIDAY responds as he enters the elevator with his SHIELD and saddlebags, “I’ll send you up now.”

FRIDAY muted the ding that would normally signal the elevator’s arrival. Steve got out and looked across the room to see Pepper and Tony standing next to each other. The way they seemed to fit together, Tony’s hand rested on her lower back and she looked up at him with laughter in her eyes. His heart ached thinking how he’d never have that connection, that sense of belonging again. He closed his eyes for one heartbeat, and then opened them again. Captain America’s mask firmly in place and Steve Rogers shoved down deep out of sight and out of mind.

“Hello, you two. I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” rang Captain’s voice across the spacious area.

“Cap? What the hell are you doing here?” Tony sputtered.

“What he means is, we are thrilled to see you Steve. And you arrive just in time for dinner,” Pepper smoothly substituted walking over with both hands out to Steve. He leaned down to kiss both her cheeks.

“Of course Capcicle made sure to make dinner, have you ever seen him eat?” stated Tony as he bounded up to hug him. Steve hugged him, careful of not clinging to these little bits of affection being showered on him. Today, even that simple sign of friendship could crack his mask if he wasn’t careful. “Now of course we are happy to see you Cap. Just surprised. Haven’t seen you be more than a few feet away from your Terminator since he finished the rehab stint in the hospital. What brings you to New York?”

“You know, you can take a boy out of New York but you can’t take New York out of a boy. Bucky is doing so well I thought it was time to finally come up and see all these projects you’ve been sending my schematics for and deal with any media that you guys think is pressing. Gotta give Bucky space to breathe right?”

“I’m sure he’s gotten tired of his 6’2” shadow by now.” Tony said laughingly.

“Yea, he’s going to be amazed how light it feels losing 240 pounds,” Steve responds in a jovial tone, carefully looking around the penthouse to avoid having to meet anyone’s eye during that joke that wasn’t really a joke. Bucky without the weight of the guilt of Steve on his shoulders would be dancing again in no time he was sure.

The trio caught up over a delicious meal of swordfish and risotto. Steve had to admit coming to see Tony was a brilliant idea just based on the meals that he’ll be eating while he’s here.

“So, what media needs, if any, are there right now? I’m sure that most people are sick of Captain America and Steven G. Rogers,” Steve asked in a lull in conversation.

“Truthfully, very little. Things have been quiet recently. The team has done well in keeping the collateral damage down and it seems interest in you is at a low,” Pepper responses.

Steve is a little relieved at that, as much as he is willing to give statements about the Avengers work, he really isn’t much of a public speaker. But that isn’t going to get him to where he needs to be. He’s about to suggest seeking out an interview, but not being sure how to do so without shocking the hell out of Pepper and Tony, when Tony chimes in.

“With the exceptions of the academic vultures that are always circling of course. Especially with the big 100 coming up next year. They’re desperate to have an authentic Captain America approved biography for sale for that.”

Right, Steve thought, they had been after him ever since he was off the ice, but SHIELD seemed convinced that Steve would give them some sort of top secret information if he even talked to a professor about his childhood. And, needless to say, Steve hadn’t been particularly enthused about reliving his life for strangers to pick apart and analyze.

“I had actually thought about that. I probably should get all my history and knowledge of those times recorded somehow. I don’t know when I’ll be willing to let someone pick it all apart, but it seems prudent to get it done just in case…” Steve trailed off, knowing Pepper and Tony could easily fill in what exactly that case could be. HYDRA assassination, alien invasion, witchcraft…. Hell, zombie apocalypse is not something Steve had ruled out at this point. It seems like nobody actually stayed dead anymore anyway.

“But I can’t imagine typing it all out and organizing it.” Steve finished looking at them. Pepper immediately got out her cell typing quickly and stating, “We could get you an assistant. They would be in charge. Maybe a ghost writer.” Steve made sure to keep his face nearly neutral but a hint of anxiousness slide through.

Tony had looked surprised at Steve’s thoughts on actually doing something with his history, which before this he had simply state, “I lived it, I’m positive there isn’t anything interesting I could add that isn’t on the official records.”

“Wait Pepper, no offense, but I wouldn’t be surprised given the history of ‘assistants’ at Stark Industries, that he wouldn’t be sure they weren’t some sort of former-KGB super spy,” Tony stated as Steve gave a smirk at the reminder of Natasha’s introduction to this pair. “You could always just talk to FRIDAY. She would let you just tell the story, hell even with first person video which would really make some future historian cream his or her pants. And then organize it later. Sorta like a Captain data dump.”

Steve looked more interested, but kept the anxious furrow between his brows.

“But then Steve has to worry about you going through his entire life looking for things to blackmail or tease him about… somehow I think a super spy is must less of a hassle than that for Steve,” Pepper countered with a teasing lilt to her voice.

Steve looked at Tony with raised eyebrows and said, “You know you wouldn’t be able to resist.”

Tony deflated somewhat and said, “Yeah, I wouldn’t.” He then perked up, “But what if I gave you your own FRIDAY. No, not FRIDAY. We’ve just gotten settled in… maybe…”

“Could I suggest WEDNESDAY, Boss?” came FRIDAY’s voice, “Since WEDNESDAY was designed to operate independent of all your other AI’s and has no backdoors for either myself or JARVIS, the Captain could be sure that what he shared would be secure until he chose to release it.”

Steve allowed his furrowed to clear easily, that was even a better option than he had thought possible. He imagined spending a lot of his time convincing Tony that nothing he was recording would be of interest to him and making sure that FRIDAY didn’t get enough to make her suspicious. If he had his own AI, he could truly just ‘let it all out’ as he had heard Sam say to guys during VA. A good option for them, but not for Captain America. But with a secure AI, even from Tony, he could actually tell the whole story for once and have the data searchable for Bucky’s questions without him having to actually listen to Steve bleed his feelings all over the stories of a life that Bucky mostly remembered, but couldn’t care about.

“Brilliant FRIDAY,” Tony shouted. “We’ll get WEDNESDAY programmed to the Captain tomorrow.”

Steve gave Tony his thanks and then turned the conversation to Pepper’s activities trying to keep Tony from working around the clock. Making it seem like the AI was a nice favor and not the one thing Steve needed for his entire plan to work.

They finished up their dinner and Steve excused himself to wash up and go to bed in the suite Tony still insisted was his even though he hadn’t been here for, after his long drive that afternoon. He told Tony he’d come by the lab in the morning to check on the latest gear, and of course, get his AI.

After Steve got out of the shower he dropped onto the large bed in his suite. The Tower was well sound proofed so he couldn’t hear any of the traffic from the busy streets outside. He tried to strain his ears, but all he could hear was the slight movement of air through vents. He strained harder, as he had at the Avengers Headquarters, to hear Bucky breathing miles away now, instead of just down the hall. He always fell asleep to the sound of Bucky’s slow and steady breathing, but here there was nothing. Nothing to lull him to sleep.

Nothing but the sound of his own breath getting heavier and faster. He quickly stated, “FRIDAY, privacy mode please.”

“Of course, Captain.”

Then Steve turned himself on his side on the bed, pulled the pillow to his face and finally released the pain that he had been carrying since that night after he discovered he couldn’t even get drunk to numb the pain of his soul mate falling into the icy ravine below the tracks. Steve laid alone on the enormous soft bed, sobbing, every once in a while chocking out a name in a stuttering moan, until even the super serum couldn’t keep him going after then emotional beating of the day. And, as stars just began to fade above a city where no one could see them anyway, Steve Rogers fell into a short and restless sleep, still clutching the soaking pillow to his face he had used to muffle cries that no one could hear anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm trying to crank through this to get it further along before Civil War comes out because I have a feeling the movie is going to wreck me and make this difficult to write.


	4. An Order of Magnitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve is the man with the plan after all. But just how long has he been planning this?  
> Note - there are some references to sexual harassment and groping in this chapter. Nothing graphic, but definitely harassment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, over a year later... talk about a delay. If anyone does read this, thank you for doing so. I had so many ideas about this work that it took me a while to figure out how to work them in without losing the actual story. Hopefully the next update will be sooner, but well... after my prior history, no promises.

Despite the frankly terrible sleep that Steve had, his body kept to the well-trained schedule and began to stir at 6 AM. He could feel his muscles cramped from the curled position he had stayed in and unclenching his hands was frankly a slow process. But, as usual, once he stood up and did a quick stretch his body came back to the standard of “human perfection” that he was designed to be. Steve almost wished that something remained of that pain, something to give a concrete symptom to the brokenness that he felt. But no, only his heart remained broken even though he could feel it continuing its steady and consistent rhythm. No stuttered, flutters or issues with Steve Rogers’ heart now even though to him it felt like he was back in his pre-serum body with it always ready to give out without even a moment’s notice.

No matter Steve’s wishes though, he had responsibilities, duties and a plan to carry out, that meant no more dawdling or pining. So, Steve started his day mentally laying out the steps needed to finish what he had started so many years ago. Luckily this plan had been nearly perfected before finding Bucky, so it wouldn’t take much for Steve to get it back on track.

Step One – Keep everyone in the dark.

How to do this? Simple, act like nothing has changed. Keep your head down and keep on going no matter how much you feel like never moving again. That will only cause concern, interventions and guilt on the part of all the wrong people.

With Step One in mind, Steve headed down to the gym to get his daily run in. While he typically ran outside at Avenger’s Compound, in New York he preferred to stay at the gym unless he got up stupidly early to quote Sam. There were just too many people for him to safely run flat out the way that he knew he needed to clear his head of any distractions. Entering the gym, he could tell that word had spread among SI employees that Captain America was in the building. His unvarying habits caused this because who wouldn’t want an excuse to see Captain America running as hard as he can, muscle glistening and… well, frankly he had tuned out Nat after she started explaining to him that it wasn’t because of a corporate culture focused on fitness and health that made the gym so full when he was in NYC. He merely nodded at anyone brave enough to make eye contact, but made sure to make it short enough that they wouldn’t try to engage him in conversation. A memory of a very disturbing conversation with a petite woman with dark hair and curves that rivaled Natasha’s made him lock his eyes on the treadmill that Stark had re-engineered to handle his demanding workouts. He didn’t want to have anyone attempt to show him their “pecs” complete attempting to put said “pecs” into his hands today. Frankly if Clint hadn’t chosen that moment to call his name from the door, Steve might have still have been frozen there with his hands locked behind his back and eyes on the ceiling. Clint had teased him about being old-fashioned, which Steve had wanted to argue with, but it seemed no matter what he said about sex being a thing during the Depression and the War (seriously, it was a Depression and war, what else do they think people had time and resources for – beach vacations?), everyone seemed convinced that his “shy” demeanor just meant that he wasn’t experienced in sexual advances. Steve never mentioned the months he spent touring the country with the USO. How anyone thought he made it through being surrounded by half naked USO girls, flamboyant directors and costume designers and burly set and stage hands with no experience in sexual advances, he has no idea. The reason Steve froze isn’t that he was shy, it was that he was scared. He could hear the lectures now from his team if he told the women and men who accosted him to back the fuck off. They would tell him that those people were merely comfortable in their sexuality and that he shouldn’t “slut-shame” them for it. Steve had no problem with people having sex or trying to get other people to have sex with them. He did, however, firmly believe that if you touched, groped, grabbed, fondled or graphically discussed sexual acts with a person who was not interested, had displayed no interest and hadn’t engaged with you in any manner beyond walking into the same room as you, then you weren’t deserving of any more respect than the respect that you had given the person you had forced your affections on. 

But, sadly, Captain America, much like America itself, cannot discuss consent without people telling him that he should be flattered that someone wanted him. Steve didn’t find any of it flattering, but it was easier to just try to avoid putting himself in situations where he was vulnerable to those types of advances. Yes, Steve Rogers who would always stand up for anyone could never stand up for himself because quite frankly, his body never felt like it was his own and, after the time on ice, his life wasn’t his own. So, he just soldiers on through the ogling, lewd suggestions and nearly illegal groping as best he could. Everyone already knew “Cap” and as such he never had a chance to set his own boundaries without being accused of being an old fogey, an uptight bastard, a stick in the mud and that was just his friends. And given that there were more than a few pornos feature Cap look-alikes, he shouldn’t be surprised when so many people wanted to tell him their fantasies about him in graphic detail. Steve didn’t even want to know how the media would react to him telling a woman that she couldn’t try and wrap his hands around his biceps and murmur, in what he assumed was supposed to be an alluring manner, that he could bench press her any time. Or to snap at the guy muttering about wrecking his ass, that he could actually hear him quite clearly and frankly had no interest in anyone who didn’t see him as more than some “juicy peach.” He’d be labelled, at best, a jerk; at worst a homophobic, misogynistic friend of Fox News. 

Luckily this morning there was just the typical stares, some of which were more to do with the speed at which he ran. Admittedly there was the one whimper, but all and all Steve was able to ignore everyone else in the room and just run. That is until he heard a woman speaking in what she probably considered a sotto voice to her friends about being a “super soldier sandwich.” He tried to speed up his running to distract him but still phrases like “I bet Bucky could live up to that name,” or “I wonder if Cap would order him to his knees” filtered in. He was pushing the machine to the top of Stark’s engineering when the room suddenly went deathly quiet. He turned around to see Pepper standing there and not the warm, welcoming Pepper he had seen at dinner last night. This was Pepper in full corporate mode with what Tony liked to call her Ice Queen armor of a silvery Armani skirt suit, mile high heels and the coldest look Steve had ever seen on her face. If you avoided looking at her eyes, you might have guessed she was looking down at some ants who had dared to interrupt her picnic, but her eyes were saying something more along the lines of “Off with their heads.”

“Ms. Stewart, I suggest you get a move on. You don’t want to be late,” Pepper stated in a flat tone that brooked no argument from a sane soul. “Ms. Welch and Ms. Shuler will be right behind you.”  
The two women that had been giggling along to the increasingly graphic fantasy, turned white and spun towards the locker room. The woman, who was apparently Ms. Stewart, was made of either stronger or stupider stuff as she stated, “My calendar is clear this morning and I am not done with my workout.”

If anything, Pepper’s eyes brightened and almost seemed to glow when she said, “I think you will find you are set for a sexual harassment and sensitivity training this morning. Mandatory.”  
Ms. Stewart, clearly in the stupid category, in fact Steve was wondering how she possibly had been hired, stated, “Oh, I signed that in the handbook when I started, there is no need for anything more. Really, it is just for the guys, I don’t know why you even make us sit through it.”

Pepper merely turned and speaking to the right of the doorway, “You are up, Happy.” Turning back to the young woman who clearly had no idea what was about to happen Pepper stated, “In part you’re right Ms. Stewart. There is no actual need for you to attend, and your schedule is now totally clear. Stark Industries has no desire to employ anyone who would behave in such a manner as you have this morning.”

Happy came strolling across the floor towards the woman with a slight Asian guard behind him. Steve took one look at the woman following Happy and thought that he wouldn’t want to go up against her. Her eyes reminded him of Natasha’s on a not so good mission.

Steve almost thought about saying something to stop all the drama, and typically he would have. It’s not like he hadn’t heard worse, but the fact that she was saying those things about Bucky, that she acted like Bucky of all people was just some plaything for her amusement and enjoyment, made him burn. Anyone, anyone at all who didn’t treat Bucky as a fucking gift to humanity deserved whatever hell fire Pepper was capable of raining down on them.

“Steve, if you’ll come with me. Everyone else be sure to check your calendars as everyone is overdue for the sexual harassment and sensitivity training. Immediately. FRIDAY will make space on your calendars,” Steve had reached Pepper as she finished speaking and she turned on her heel and he followed her out the door.

“Uh, Pepper, I just wanted to say…” Steve began hesitantly.

“Cap, no. No thanks. I should have put a stop to that much sooner than I did. I had heard from Clint about the prior incident when he was joking with Tony about it and I, of everyone, should have done more to make sure you weren’t put in situations like that.”

“Pepper, it’s fine. It’s not that big of deal. If she wouldn’t have brought Bucky into it, I would have told you to just let it go. But he doesn’t deserve to be treated like…” Steve wanted to make sure she knew that he was fine and that he wasn’t disturbed.

Pepper interrupted again, “Treated like an object? He doesn’t deserve to be treated like people treat you?” Her eyes rested on Steve’s face and given all that had happened in the past days, Steve didn’t have the energy to do more than shrug.

“No one deserve to be treated as less than a person. I would have done the same for anyone, but the fact that it was one of my friends being treated like that by one of my employees in a place where you should have been safe from harassment and such makes me very, very angry. That is not the type of culture I will allow. I wish I had taken steps sooner,” her voice was forceful and Steve was again struck by the steel in her. Much like him Pepper had lines and if you even toed them, unless your name was Tony, you were going to get more than a push back.

“How did you even know what was going on?” Steve questioned, thinking it seemed like an unlikely coincidence that she would just show up in the gym while dressed for the boardroom at that exact time.  
“Tony had actually asked me to look for you, apparently, the idea of setting you up with WEDNESDAY took hold and he was recoding her to you alone starting around 2 o’clock this morning,” she began.  
“Oh, I didn’t mean for him to…” Steve interjected.

“Steve, it’s Tony. He woke up and just had to. You didn’t force him and neither of us could have stopped him. I’m just glad he had something else to do than re-engineer the coffee maker again. I hate waking up to a new machine. Anyway, he asked me to look for you and when I asked FRIDAY where you were she stated that you were in the gym and that it seemed like you were ‘uncomfortable with a conversation being had.’ I asked FRIDAY to tap me into the audio and well, let’s just say I asked FRIDAY to test the speed setting Tony added to the elevators,” she stated still clearly seething.

“Pepper, really…” Steve tries again hoping to calm her down.

“No. I went through all sorts of comments like that being Tony’s “assistant” with people assuming all sorts of things and not bothering to hide the comments when Tony wasn’t around. I will not tolerate that kind of behavior within my own company and home,” she snaps.

“What? Pepper, that is ridiculous. Who said those things? Clearly they need to be straightened out on how…” Steve felt himself begin to get worked up, but he couldn’t help it. Pepper was one of the best people he knew and, given how well SI ran under her watch, he was pretty sure she was one of the top business minds in the world, how anyone could think that she used…

“Steve,” Peppers voice was gentler as she interrupted his fuming, “thank you. Just remember, that’s how I feel when I hear someone treating you like you are nothing more than a body. And it happens all the damn time, people assuming just because you are famous, or rich, or,” with this her eyes cut over to him and she winks cheekily as she states, “ridiculously attractive that you somehow don’t need to be treated like a living human being. No deserves that, but you, you are one of the good, no one of the best ones, and you are not to be treated like a piece of meat. Not on my watch.”

Steve has to breathe deeply, because being treated like an actual person is more than he can ever hope for. Even Pepper who defends him so eloquently now has asked more than once why Tony should go on certain missions, “Can’t Cap go?” he remembers her saying, “Tony hasn’t had a good night sleep in a while.” The fact that Steve had just gotten back from a 2-week mission, hadn’t had time to do more than shovel food down his throat and remove the bandages from a 3-story fall that had cracked ribs and fractured his pelvic bone didn’t matter. Because Steve, well, Steve looked just fine. Fresh as a daisy, and Tony had dark circles under his eyes. So, Steve had closed his eyes for two beats and said, “I can go. It’s no problem.” There had been a token protests from Tony on how he was just fine, but Steve just said, “It’s no problem,” one more time and they started debriefing him. Because it’s Captain America, maybe he can’t leap tall buildings in a single bound but he can certainly fall off one and pop right back up to fight the good fight.

In the time, it took him to get himself back under control the elevator was slowing on the floor of Tony’s lab. He gestured for Pepper to exit first and the entered the workshop. There were pieces and parts scattered everywhere and the music was, for Tony, at a dull roar. While it wasn’t a typical song that Steve liked, somehow the words just caught him this time.  
Fake it if you’re out of direction.  
Fake it if you don’t belong  
Just fake it if you feel like affection  
Whoa, you’re such a fucking hypocrite.  
You should know that the lies won't hide your flaws  
No sense in hiding all yours  
You gave up on your dreams along the way, yeah…

“FRIDAY,” Pepper’s voice cut through, “conversational volume,” and the music was quieted. Steve could still hear the song, but he had a feeling he didn’t want to listen too closely in mixed company so he filtered it out and focus on Tony and Pepper.

“CAP! I must say I forget how brilliant I was when I programmed this. In fact, I only had to make minimal changes to make it top notch and up to my currently even more brilliant standards,” Tony enthused from his seat with welding glasses pushed up on his forehead and some sort of soldering tool in his hands.

“Thanks for this, Tony, but you know there was no real rush,” Steve stated, more than slightly disingenuously. His gratitude was real, but no one needed to know that he was working on a timeline.

“No problem, it’s been a while since I’ve dug into AI. Now about WEDNESDAY…” Tony began.

“Yea, I meant to ask, why WEDNESDAY?” Steve cut in.

“Oh, well, WEDNESDAY is a Weapons, Explosives Detector & Neutralizer & Enhanced Situational Diagnostics & Assessment Yeoman.” Tony stated matter-of-factly.

“Seriously Tony, yeoman?” Steve said rolling his eyes. “You just really wanted it to be called WEDNESDAY. That name is nearly as bad as SHIELD.”

“Hey I will have you know that she specializes in Tactics, Interventions, Threats Assessments, Strategy and Support so I could have called her..” Tony started with a twinkle in his eye.

“TONY!” Pepper’s voice was firm. “No. Don’t finish that thought.”

“But Pep…”came the whine that shouldn’t be heard from anyone over the age of 10.

“Tony,” came an even firmer response back from his wife.

“Fine. Anyway, I built her as a potential support system for Rhodey and the Air Force, but frankly, she’s too good for them. I didn’t build in any ethics…” Tony began.

“TONY!” came both Steve and Pepper’s voices ringing out.

“Not like that, it’s just that she only relays facts and provides answers and probabilities. The assessment of consequences and such are not in her functions. I realized this before I turned her over to the military that I had actually built her with Steve in mind. He can see and weight the pros and cons of any suggestion faster than anyone I know and make a call. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to have her assessment capabilities,” Tony stated as he handed Steve a small flag pin that seemed like it stuck just fine to his collar without an actual pin and a very small disk that Tony mimed putting behind his ear on his neck. Once Steve had attached the pin thing and put on the disk, Tony handed him a phone like device and had him put it in his pocket with a mumbled, "So she can scan when you aren't at the Tower or on a Jet."

“What, why don’t you trust anyone else with this?” Steve asked hesitantly.

“Okay, pretend you wanted to get into the tower. Ask WEDNESDAY for a scan.” Tony responded.

“WEDNESDAY, please scan the Tower for any weaknesses that would allow for my entry if Tony wanted to keep me out,” Steve said, still feeling weird about speaking to the air even after all the years with JARVIS and FRIDAY.

“Certainly sir,” came back a voice with a soft Irish lilt, which caused Steve to raise an eyebrow at Tony.

“You said your mom was Irish, I thought it’d be nice,” Tony muttered looking anywhere but at Steve.

“Sir,” WEDNESDAY’s voice came through Steve’s earbud, “There is a grate on the landing of the 34th floor that would accommodate your size. You could get into the heating system from there which would mask your heat signature from FRIDAY. Pretty much anywhere but the lab would be accessible from there. The lab has a weakness in the glass next to the emergency alarm lock that you would have the strength to shatter if you hit it at a 15* downward angle.”

“But,” Steve began, “how..”

“You could either dive from an Quinjet, floating around the 50th floor, or starting at the alley there are an array of grips that I could direct you up the side of the building.” WEDNESDAY swiftly responded.

“Uh…” Steve’s eyes cut over to Tony, “We should tell…”

“Nope. No.” Tony interjected. “I don’t want to know. I’ve done the calculations; FRIDAY has done the calculations and according to us there is no way that a single man could get into the Tower. If there is such a way, I don’t want to know. No one else can figure it out and well… you’re my fail safe Steve. If anything goes wrong in the Tower, or wrong again,” Tony said sheepishly, “I want someone able to get in.”

“Uh..”

“I want you to be able to get in,” Tony admitted. “I can’t have Pepper and my tech vulnerable to anyone else. There is no one else I trust with them.”

“Tony, I…” Steve stuttered.

“Hey, HEY, it’s not something that is ever going to happen, just a fail safe. But think of all the other cool things you can do with WEDNESDAY. You could be a one-man strike team if needed. Not just a battering ram but true Stealth. And, she’ll play all the old man music and shows that you want. Anything you want to ask about you can, and no one, not even me will find out,” rambled Tony.

“Thank you Tony,” Steve responded as sincerely as he could, “This is exactly what I need.”

“It’s is Awesome, right?” Tony bounced back the hyperactive engineer they all knew. “Speaking of Stealth, I’ve got a great new suit for you! Extra thin and flexible.” Tony pulled out a thin suit out from a drawer. It looked like navy silk underwear.

“Tony, that seems a bit… thin,” Steve stated hesitantly.

“Of course it is thin. But don’t worry it is nearly totally bullet proof. I mean some of the newer specialty rounds will still, but it should leave you unmarked for most everything. Not even a short-lived bruise on your lily white skin,” Tony explained while still totally managing to avoid Steve’s actual question.

“I think Steve has concerns about wearing that in public. I mean, given the reaction he gets in this,” Pepper gestured to Steve in his compression shirt and basketball shorts that he had worn running, “I doubt that he’d make it out his apartment door without getting mobbed”

“Oh, he wouldn’t wear it out,” Tony responded, already beginning to pull down his goggles.

“Tony…” Pepper warned.

“It goes under your street clothes, obviously. I mean I made the first one for Tasha since she seems to do quite a bit more undercover assignments, but given you wind up finding trouble on any given day, I thought you’d benefit for it too. I even made one with short legs so that you can wear it on your runs,” this time Tony pulled his goggles down and picked back up the soldering iron.

“This is great Tony,” Steve responded trying to keep just how perfect this was for future plans out of his voice.

“Yea, yea, I’m a genius. FRIDAY, full volume,” Tony waved him away.

Pepper sent Steve a grin, gave Tony a fond peck on the cheek and headed to the small office that she kept on Tony’s workshop floor.

Steve grinned back and headed to the elevators to go back to his floor. He entered his apartment and asked, “FRIDAY?”

“I disabled FRIDAY from your area Sir,” came WEDNESDAY’s soft brogue from the ceiling, “It seemed counter intuitive for me to be set up to be total private and for her to be running your private area. I do share monitoring on the exterior entrances and access points with her.”

“Fantastic, WEDNESDAY. And could you please call me Rogers going forward,” Steve said with a grin. The plan was going to go so much smoother now.

“Of course, Rogers.”

Next Step – Set up the end game.

After Steve showered, he got dressed in a pair of loose jeans and a gray hoodie with an SI logo on it. Replacing the ear disc he asked WEDNESDAY for a test and she came through loud and clear, “Hello, Rogers. For future reference the disc is waterproof up to 400 m, so you don’t need to take it off.”

“Thanks, WEDNESDAY. For our next exercise, could you tell me the best way to exit the Tower without any record?”

“Sure. You could either exit through the air ducts I mentioned on the 34th floor and free climb down or you could go down to the 5th floor break room. If you arrive within the next 10 minutes there will be a tour group going by of veterans from SI’s outreach and work training program. You should blend in well there with just a ball cap.”

“Let’s skip the ducts for now,” Steve muttered, “What about clothes?”

“Most are wearing jeans and button ups. If you wear a loose polo and jacket, you’ll blend in and your physical shape should raise any of FRIDAY’s alarms.”

Steve adjusted his outfit and headed out in time. He took that stairs from his floor which wasn’t that unusual and WEDNESDAY told him how to time his arrival so that he didn’t have to open the door to the 5th floor. He had just gotten a cup of coffee in the break room when the tour group came in. The young man in an SI polo was just thanking all the veterans for their service as Steve slide to the back of the group. Keeping his shoulders slightly hunched and head down he moved with the group of 30 or so towards the elevators.

After moving through the lobby the group split into smaller groups going various directions. Steve followed them towards the river, branching off when he was a few blocks away from the Tower. He ducked through a store leaving through a separate entrance going back the way he came and then meandered in a zig-zag pattern until he reached a random subway stop. He hoped on the first train, that arrived and then got off at 3 or 4 other stops before switching to the one he needed. It was around 11 when he walked up the steps of the New York Public Library. He wandered the rows for a while before making his was to the door outside the Rare Book Room. He asked a random employee about who he would speak to about reviewing old blueprints from the 1940’s and 50’s in midtown, making eye contact through the heavy framed glasses that seemed to work despite how he had always thought Superman needed a better disguise.

“That would be Jamie, she should be going to lunch soon, but I’ll call her for you,” the employee responded.

“Thanks so much,” Steve replied as she walked to the white phone on a nearby desk.

It only took a few minutes for a tall, stately woman with hair a steely gray cap came out from the Rare Book Room door. Her steps barely stuttered when she caught sight of Steve.

“Thanks, Nora,” she said with a smile. “I’ve got it from here. Come with me sir.”

Steve followed her down a corridor to a small room marked Building Records where she keyed in a code and he went through behind her.

“WEDNESDAY?” Steve questioned.

“The video has been looping since you arrived. There will be no record,” came her calm response.

With that Steve turned to the woman and opened his arms.

“Hello my dear,” she said giving him a large squeeze and resting her head on his chest. “It’s been too long.” 

“Hi ya, Jamie,” Steve responded as he rested his head on hers, “I’ve missed you too.”

“I had hoped when I saw you again that Sgt. Barnes would be with you,” she pulled back slightly as she spoke, “I would have liked to have…” she trailed off as she considered Steve’s eyes. Steve didn’t know, nor want to know what she saw there, she just sighed and squeezed him tighter.

“He… well, he remembers, but not really. He remembers it happening but apparently, the life of Bucky Barnes doesn’t feel like his. He doesn’t feel anything about that time,” Steve managed to get the statement out after having practiced in his mind the whole circuitous subway trip here. He swallowed and tried to find that courage that everyone kept telling him had, “He doesn’t feel anything about me.”

“Oh. Oooh,” Jamie squeezed in closer holding Steve tightly.

“I’m fine, really, Jamie, it’s okay. I just… I can’t be around him. I guess that seeing me is just making him feel guilty and so he can’t heal the way that he needs to. He can’t move on into his future with me nearby,” Steve choked out. “So, given that, it’s time for me to finish what needs to be done.”

She pulled back once again and met his eyes squarely, “Are you sure you can leave him behind?”

“I am not leaving him behind. I did that once. This time, I’m leaving him in peace,” he kept his eyes on hers, knowing she wouldn’t help him unless she could see the truth in his eyes.

“Leaving him in peace… while you…” she probed.

“While I kept my vow and then… Sanctuary. That is, if you are still offering,” Steve spoke hesitantly, worried that she had changed her mind in the years since they had made this plan.

“Steve. It’s not mine to offer. It is for whoever needed it. I mean, I know Grandpa never actually thought that you would use it, given he thought you were dead in the Arctic, but he wanted a place for soldiers to find a place without war,” she told him. “You were in his heart and mind when he built it. He wanted a safe place for those who were tired of war,” she smiled sadly, “A Sanctuary and peace if you can manage it.”

Steve gave her a sad grin, “I’m not sure, I’ve never really had it nor tried for it, but I think it’s time to try something different. And if there is anyone I trust to know where I could find any sort of peace, it’s him. He was one of the best men I ever knew.”

“That was Grandpa,” Jamie smiled, “Good to the bones. Alright, let me pull up the map.” She went to a case and opened up the bottom drawer all the way. She reached in the back and tipped down the back wall. There was a small sheet of paper with a code and a string of numbers. Steve recognized the handwriting instantly and the code.

“So, has anyone else asked for this Sanctuary?” Steve asked as he took the paper, memorizing it quickly.

“Just one man from what Grandpa told me,” she responded.

“When? How long has the place been abandoned?” he queried.

“Well, he first asked in the 70’s, then again in the early 2000’s. He came again a few years ago and asked if he could become caretaker permanently,” Jamie said looking a little reticent. 

“The same man?” he asked bewildered, “How old is he?”

“My guess? Older than you. He didn’t change a bit from the description that Grandpa left me. He calls himself Logan. He said he just couldn’t watch any more people die,” she said looking searchingly at Steve.

“Are you wondering if I know how he feels?” Steve grinned grimly, “yes, Jamie. I know exactly how he feels. Sounds like we’ll be a pair.”

“He’ll keep to himself. He built himself a cabin in the 70’s, but he has done the maintenance on the whole place, so you should be good. Just make sure you bring some initial supplies. He said that he had a supply chain worked out so you should be able to get what you need through him,” she stated.

It was starting to seem almost too good to be true. “Don’t you think that he’ll be a bit upset to share with me?” Steve asked, thinking about how if he had had a private sanctuary he’d be a bit perturbed to have some random stranger show up to it.

“No,” Jamie answered quickly, “Grandpa asked him when he first offered telling him that he might have others in need. He said that soldiers deserved peace if they could find it. I also might have mentioned a friend of mine who was getting sick of war after a long time in the cold. He told me just to tell my friend that he was shit at taking orders, even from a Captain, but that he wouldn’t mind having a beer with him.”

Steve laughed, “Well, I’m crap at taking orders too, so this should work out okay. Thank you for everything Jamie.”

“It’s been my genuine pleasure, Captain. On the behalf of my family, thank you for all you did for my grandfather. And I wish you peace,” she leaned up and kissed his cheek lightly.

“Good bye Ms. Jones. I wish you and your family all the best,” he kissed her ebony cheek and then ducked out the door before he accepted the fact that he had just cut the first string and the others will slice even deeper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, non-beta'd work, so all faults are mine. I hope I kept the NYC description vague enough that it could work. If I start that research this would have never happened.


End file.
